


Up

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Sex Swing, Submission, Suspension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim suggests a swing; Leonard concedes it’s a damn good suggestion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Jim got these too easily. Maybe he just replicated them; maybe they were simple to call up from the Synthesizer banks. Or maybe he had them stuffed under his bed, traded from Orions or saved from mischief on Earth, times in other places with other men. The thought makes Leonard’s fists clench at his sides, and he wonders vaguely if he should take that unjustified anger out on his pretty boyfriend, suspended in the air like the helpless toy he is. 

Jim might like that. Probably would. Jim likes when Leonard pulls his hair, when Leonard bites his neck, when Leonard leaves finger-shaped bruises on his hips that need a dermal regenerator to fix. He likes to be shoved into place and held down and fucked with the merciless force of a Klingon. He likes to be spanked, and obviously, he likes to be bound, because he gave Leonard these ropes and _begged for it._ Now he’s hanging from the air, the long, black, faux-leather bonds rod-straight in the stagnant air of the captain’s quarters, held perfectly in place right at Leonard’s crotch level. A lucky coincidence, but it’s more likely they were sized just for this. Leonard, having finished the last clasp—securing Jim’s ankles together, tied tightly around his thighs, heels pressed into his plump, ripe ass—places a hand on Jim’s knee. They’re tied together just as firmly—he’s _all_ tied together. Wrists together, arms together, pinned to the several black ropes hanging from the ceiling, chest a twisted mat of knots. Even his cock, full and pink and leaking down to the carpet, is firmly tied, ropes around the base and his balls and crisscrossing all down his length, tight around the veiled head. His skin’s pinker everywhere the binding cuts him, but Leonard, even new to this, knows what he’s doing. He’s a physician, and he’d never _hurt_ Jim, not _really_.

He’d tie Jim up and slap Jim’s ass and make Jim quiver and plead, but that’s par for the course. His hand idly skims up Jim’s leg, all the muscles highlighted perfectly under the strain of staying in place, and he reaches Jim’s ass, still rosy from being squeezed. 

Leonard squeezes again for good measure and drinks in Jim’s moan. Maybe Jim should’ve been gagged; he’s never good at the don’t-speak-unless-spoken-to order. Leonard makes a mental note to muzzle him next time. Jim always gets one chance at a safeword he never uses, then submits wholly to all Leonard’s whims. 

This is the most control Leonard’s ever had, and he can feel the nervousness in Jim’s shivering skin. Jim’s back is too tense, his spine curved by the ropes, and Leonard runs his fingers along it just to make Jim squirm. Jim whimpers again and makes a keening noise, his head trying to fall forward, but the collar firmly attached to everything else won’t let him go far. Seeing a dog collar around Jim’s neck, a man already so very much like a puppy, always makes Leonard smile. He runs his palm flat along Jim’s shoulder, dipping under to caress Jim’s chest, and Jim looks up at him with hazy, burning blue eyes. 

Leonard pets Jim’s firm chest and rubs over his pert nipples, pebbling in the open air, while Jim bites his lips to stifle his moan. He licks them a minute later; a nervous habit that always makes him look particularly kissable. Or fuckable. He’s too low for the first option. Leonard’s other hand cups Jim’s chin, and he strokes the almost nonexistent burn of stubble while he purrs, “Last chance to bale, darlin’.” His Southern drawl gets worse at times like this, when his control’s slipping. Even fully clothed and untouched as Leonard is, the sight of Jim’s naked, bound body does a number on him. Jim’s right nipple stiffens in his hand as he plays with it, and Jim shudders and closes his eyes. 

Jim licks his lips again and shakes his head, murmuring, “ _Bones_...” It sounds like a plea, but Jim doesn’t finish, just groans in the back of his throat. For a captain so naturally born to leadership, he takes to submission remarkably well. 

He gives himself to Leonard with the way he turns his head, trying to press a kiss to Leonard’s palm, but the movement makes him sway slightly. Leonard grabs a chunk of his gold hair to steady him, and Jim hisses in pain, but it works. His hips still swing lightly back and forth while the rest of him stills, and Leonard’s drawn to the mess of tied hands and feet against his ass, pulled so very taut. Leonard wonders vaguely if it’s painful, but clearly, Jim doesn’t mind. 

But then, Jim already looks like his head’s thinned to nothing, and he runs his tongue nervously along his bottom lip while he waits for Leonard to move, to take him. Leonard stares at him, at every supple line and curve of his luscious body, and wonders what the hell they’re going to do. Leonard could do _anything_ in this moment, he knows. He could push Jim over into the wall and let Jim slap against it, or he could move back between Jim’s legs and snap the belts, open up his thighs, slam into his tight ass and use the momentum to fuck him harder. He could sit on the bed and do nothing but watch, jerk off in his own hand while Jim moaned and begged helplessly, struggling and swinging in an attempt to reach what Leonard won’t let him have. But then, he could do that from just tying Jim in the corner, and he wants to make this first time—though he’s sure it won’t be their last—count.

Jim decides it for him by trying to struggle forward, tugging against Leonard’s still-strong rip. It gets Jim nowhere; just makes the ropes quiver and his ass start swaying back and forth again, while Leonard controls a snort and ignores Jim’s disgruntled glare. “Just can’t be a good boy and be patient, can you?” Leonard grumbles, but the affection’s thick in his voice. Jim’s nose wrinkles, but he knows better than to answer. When they’re like this, he _belongs_ to Leonard, and he does behave more than he gets credit for. He pouts and struggles vainly again, shoulders twisting and making him wince. Leonard gets the message.

Leonard’s pants are tented, his cock straining in the confines of his uniform, trying to reach for the eager mouth in front of him. Jim lips fall open on cue, tongue arching forward, but he’s several centimeters short. He makes an irritated noise and actually twitches his own hips as though trying to swing himself forward, but Leonard’s grip on his hair prevents it. Leonard chuckles, “Hungry, Jim?”

Jim whines in frustration and hisses, “You know the point of tying me up like this is supposed to be to swing me back and forth onto your cock, right?” His cheeks heat with his own words, and it goes straight to the bulge in Leonard’s pants. Jim and his dirty mouth. 

But Leonard’s got more control than that, and he counters easily, “I thought the point was to leave you pretty and helpless. I could leave you right now, head off to sickbay for some work or down to the mess hall, and you couldn’t even crawl away.” Jim’s eyes widen in obvious horror, even though Leonard would never do such a thing. Who could walk away from a naked James Kirk, held out on a silver platter? His flushed skin is already lightly beaded in a few places, shimmering in the sweat of his struggle and arousal, and everywhere the ropes cut into his flash, he’s stained red and ripe. If Leonard was younger and had the stamina, he’d spend hours running his tongue over every last millimeter of Jim’s gorgeous body. 

But he’s not a teenager that can go all night, and his dick’s already too hard to mess around. As soon as he lets go of Jim’s hair, Jim’s trying to propel himself forward, and Leonard ignores the efforts in favour of dealing with his own pants. He doesn’t bother to strip, doesn’t take off any of the rest of his uniform, just opens his fly and pulls his heavy cock out of his underwear, delighting in Jim’s instant moan. Jim’s professed his adoration for Leonard’s shape and size on more than one occasion, and the lust on his face is undeniable. When the next swing brings him closer, he shoves his face into Leonard’s crotch, inhaling deeply and lapping at one of Leonard’s balls before he’s sent back again. Leonard catches him by the collar and holds him still, letting him find purchase. 

Jim doesn’t need to be told what to do. _This_ , at least, is familiar ground; Jim spends half his nights with Leonard’s cock in his face. His tongue darts out in an instant, laving all over Leonard’s inner thighs, nose pressing into the thick mat of brown hair encasing Leonard’s shaft. Jim licks at his balls and sucks them in. One at a time, Jim weighs them on his tongue and suckling at the haired skin, inhaling again and groaning around his mouthful. Leonard shoves against his face and growls back. Knowing how fucking _amazing_ Jim is in bed never quite prepares him for the real experience, for having Captain James T. Kirk mouthing eagerly at his cock. The organ pulses against his cheek, and Leonard swings his hips to slap Jim’s face with it, as though Jim needs the reminder. Leonard has half a mind to push him away just to prolong this; Leonard already knows it’s too hot to last as long as he’d like. 

He’d like to leave Jim like this all night, wake up to the poor thing swaying back and forth and limply hanging on, red and bruised everywhere the ropes cut into him. He’d patch Jim all up, of course; he always does. But that doesn’t negate the fun of putting the damage there in the first place. He thinks about it too much and even wonders when, exactly, is the latest possible moment that he _has_ to cut Jim free. 

For now, he pushes Jim back by the forehead, letting the rest of his body hover back, and he says like Jim isn’t already doing it, “Open wide.” Jim’s tongue lolls out, lips nice and wet, and Leonard holds his cock up to Jim’s top lip, pressing his tip into it. He runs the head along the circle of Jim’s mouth and lands along Jim’s tongue, lined up and ready.

Then he lets go, and Jim’s own momentum slams him on; he shrieks a muffled cry as he’s impaled to the root. He’s taken Leonard’s cock too many times to not be an expert at it, to not be able to take Leonard’s impressive girth down his throat. Even with Leonard’s cock engorged and pulsing with arousal, Jim manages to loosen his jaw enough to take it, and when he hits Leonard’s body, nose digging into the hair there, the pained noise he makes is all delight. 

Leonard holds Jim down until Jim sucks once, hollowing out his cheeks with the force of it. Jim sucks like he was born to take it, better than any Orion slave. He moans around Leonard’s cock, and the vibrations are sheer bliss. The heat, the moisture, the suction is all rapture. Jim sucks harder and keeps sucking, even as Leonard pushes him off again by the shoulders. Jim’s abused lips slide up Leonard’s shaft with sick, wet splurching noises, and Leonard’s hips are tense with the effort of not thrusting forward. He doesn’t have to. That’s what Jim’s tied up for.

He lets Jim go again, and the fall forward is just as perfect as the force. Jim’s own momentum does the work, and he gets all the way to the base before he starts tumbling back again, this time without Leonard’s hands to catch him. Leonard lets him swing away, lets him swing back on, lets him whimper and stuff himself full of Leonard’s cock without once struggling to get away. On the first few swings, Jim could’ve turned his cheek, but didn’t, and as the momentum dies out, he stays with at least some part of Leonard in his mouth at all times. Before he can slow to a stop, Leonard pushes him, hard and far, and Jim groans in the flash of a second that his mouth isn’t full. 

He’s best when his mouth is full. Leonard puts one hand on his own hip, trying to restrain it, and the other he lets slide along Jim’s shoulder, ready to push or pull as needed, while Jim plunges on and off his huge dick. Jim’s a litany of moans and whimpers and such a fucked-senseless face that Leonard has to look away. He stares at Jim’s ass instead, which isn’t much better; Jim’s cheeks are shuddering, and Leonard knows he’s probably flexing his hole, wishing his puckered ring were stretched wide around another cock. Leonard knows Jim’s hard but makes no move to help him; he’s Leonard’s _toy_ , and he’ll come when Leonard lets him. For now, all Leonard’s interested in is filling his filthy mouth up and plugging his throat full of cum, drenching him right down to his stomach. The thought of Jim choking on his cum is too much to take. 

He breaks and thrusts forward, slamming into Jim’s face just as Jim falls forward onto him, and Jim really does choke. He gets no relief, just gags while Leonard pulls back to fuck him again, the ropes doing half the work. Leonard has to grab Jim’s head to hold him still, and Leonard clutches at the back of it while he humps Jim’s face like an animal. Jim can’t do anything but take it, and Leonard’s only just conscious enough to make sure Jim isn’t going to pass out; he conquers his gag reflex, somehow, like only he could. He makes desperate noises and gurgles and moans, and Leonard’s own growl swallows them up, the slapping sound of skin-on-skin overtaking everything. All there is is his cock in Jim’s mouth, and the rest of Jim’s handsome body trembling at his mercy. 

He lets Jim go when he loses it. He sees white and screams, spurting a jet of hot cum into Jim’s gaping mouth, and the next second, Jim’s swinging back, a string of more liquid sticking to his tongue and draping between them. He rocks back in time to get another splash across his face—he closes his eyes just in time. He sways to and fro while Leonard covers him in a healthy coat of seed, dribbling down his cheeks and staining the carpet. Jim’s own precum has probably done the same. But Leonard’s busy with his own mess, and he grabs his dick to pump out the rest, making sure to cover Jim as much as possible.

Jim takes it with a gorgeous moan and panting breath, head hanging as much as the binding will allow. He swings limply back and forth even after Leonard’s done, and Leonard takes a step back to avoid getting hit. He stands there and _stares_ , still coming down from the high of fucking the most gorgeous man in the universe. 

Every part of Jim’s body is ruined. He’s pink and sweaty and drooling and covered in cum and so debauched that if Starfleet saw him, he’d probably be instantly dispelled for overwhelming indecency. How Leonard ever looks at him on the bridge without getting instantly hard is becoming a mystery. The arch of Jim’s swing grows smaller and smaller, until he’s nearly still, hovering in place and spinning slightly. 

Still, Leonard stares, well aware that Jim hasn’t experienced the same relief. Leonard’s too satisfied, caught somewhere between exhilarated and exhausted. He half wants to go to bed and leave Jim there to cry, half wants to circle around and fuck Jim’s sweet ass, letting the bonds do all the work. 

Jim mumbles, “ _Bones, please_...” and the sheer _sex_ in his voice makes Leonard’s flagging cock twitch. When Jim looks up, his pupils are so dilated that there’s hardly any blue left. He takes a shuddering breath and humps the air, probably to demonstrate his need, and it makes him sway in place again. Leonard reaches to pet his cheek, rewarding him for a job well done, and Jim croons and nuzzles into it. 

Then Leonard pulls back and turns, heading for the washroom. He doesn’t particularly need to go, but he does need to splash cold water on his face and figure out where to get a set of ropes like that for his own quarters. Jim cries after him, full of dismay, but Leonard, ever the strong master, keeps his shoulders straight and marches. 

He’ll come back, of course. But first he’ll let Jim suffer in loneliness: the punishment for being too damned kinky and tempting and all around _hot_ for an old country doctor to take. Still.

He’ll have to let Jim suggest new games more often.


End file.
